


The Golden Years

by foxcatcher



Category: All Elite Wrestling (implied), Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 24/7 Championship, Community: wrestlingkink, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, M/M, MARITAL BLISS, Mentions of Double or Nothing, Old Married Couple, Prompt Fill, Short & Sweet, The Golden Truth, and very silly, weirdos in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 01:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19189423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxcatcher/pseuds/foxcatcher
Summary: The Golden Truth enjoy a quiet Sunday at home.





	The Golden Years

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an old prompt on the kinkmeme which wanted "Old married couple fluff" with R-Truth and Goldust - https://wrestlingkink2.dreamwidth.org/423.html?thread=41127#cmt41127
> 
> My mind went straight for pure 50s sitcom idyll, which, combined with all the excellent content from R-Truth and the 24/7 Championship, lead to this weird little thing. Also, I like the idea of Dustin Rhodes somehow being Goldust's gimmick, instead of the opposite - if that makes any sense...

“Honey! Come in here!” R-Truth yelled from his arm chair. It was Sunday, a perfect day to enjoy a pipe while making sure the European Television championship looked pristine and sparkling for his next defence. There were a series of crashing, bustling noises from the kitchen, slowly approaching until Goldust poked his head around the corner.

“What was that, Truthie?” the spandex-clad man asked, wiping his hands on his apron – a rather fetching baby pink against the gold and black. “Oh, muffin, you’ve got polish on your sweater vest.”

“Aw, shoot, you’re right.” He wiped uselessly at the spot, before abandoning it altogether. “Anyway, you’re on tv,” Truth said, pointing to the screen with his pipe.

“Would you look at that,” Goldust smiled, leaning against the armchair as he watched a slightly less painted version of himself make his way down to the ring, stopping halfway down the ramp to crouch menacingly.

“Red does look really nice on you Goldie,” the seated man said, looking up at his partner, who waved a dismissive hand at him. He was pretty sure he was blushing under the face paint.

“You really think so?”

“Of course. It was a brave choice,” Truth assured him, puffing on his (by the looks of it, unlit) pipe. “The paint looks good too."

In amicable silence, the three of them – Truth in his armchair, the Title on his lap and Goldie perched on the arm rest – watched together as Goldust and his brother beat the tar out of each other. Eventually, Goldust got up and smoothed out his apron.

“Well, I better go check on the roast,” he said, giving Truth a quick peck on the forehead before he went back to the kitchen. Soon enough, Truth could hear soft humming, amid the clatter of pots and pans. He put his pipe back between his teeth and smiled as he rubbed at a particularly stubborn spot on his belt. He could smell pie.

“What was that?” Truth put his ear against the belt, then looked down at the hem of his vest. “Not again!”

-

The Golden Truth sat side by side in bed, comfortably tired after a day of domestic bliss. Dinner had been delicious, and the rhubarb pie had been even better. Truth adjusted his reading glasses, squinting at the paper, while Goldie read his book, his own glasses perched on the tip of his nose and his feathery robe tied snuggly around him. Besides him, the championship rested on his nightstand, and on the other was a platinum blonde wig, covered in curlers.

Smiling to himself, R-Truth looked down on their interlinked hands and the matching bands of gold. Not once had he regretted marrying his husband.

Even if he was a weirdo.


End file.
